


Blood on Snow

by Beryll (Rynthjan)



Series: Holidays Series [3]
Category: Actor RPF, Lord of the Rings RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, Death, Human Hunt, M/M, Rape, Slavery, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-23
Updated: 2012-04-23
Packaged: 2017-11-04 04:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/389687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynthjan/pseuds/Beryll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas is here again. A time of cold and blood and death. But maybe again a time where frozen hearts melt and gifts can be found in the most unlikely of moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood on Snow

The great hall of the castle was filled with the sounds of countless voices. Chatting and laughing, pleading and screaming. The hall was packed tight with people, the heat from the huge fireplaces and the many bodies growing more stifling with each hour.

Still the festivities didn't show any sign of slowing down.

And it was only the pre-Christmas party.

Sean sat at one of the long tables and absentmindedly stirred the contents of the mug in front of him. Hot, spiced wine. Number twelve this evening? He wasn't sure anymore. He had stopped counting somewhere around eight. The alcohol should have pleasantly numbed his senses to what was happening around him. Keeping his eyes fixed on the lazily swirling liquid and his ears closed to the high pitched squeal of pain close by should have helped to remain oblivious.

Oblivious to the fact that he was not oblivious to the suffering his fellow nobles were inflicting on the hapless slaves who had been chosen for tonight's entertainment.

He had never enjoyed such events fully but when 'she' had still been by his side, he had laughed and joked with the others. His heart unmoved as the concept of pain had been too unreal to cause an echo in him. 

Now his heart was a bleeding, frozen mess and the pain resonated in him, shattering him further. Every scream, every whimper, every plea replayed in his alcohol clouded mind in his own voice, screaming, whimpering, pleading with her not to leave him, not to go, not to do this to him.

And she had laughed and joked. Just like the noble raping the slave girl on the table right next to him was laughing now as his cock tore her delicate flesh. Just like he was joking with the lady sitting on the table close to the crying girl's head, idly cutting awkward patterns in the exposed flesh of her small breasts with a dull desert knife.

Sean took the mug off the table as the wine started spilling over from the noble’s increasingly hard rutting. There was blood on his cock, Sean noted, blood spilling down the young slave's thighs. She would not survive the night. Lucky girl.

He took a deep swallow of the wine, trying in vain to wash the metallic taste of blood from his mouth. But it saturated the air, clung to everything like a disease. And Sean wasn't sure if the smell would ever again wash off him. Maybe it was this smell Viggo's boy had smelled on him, why he had been so afraid when they first met. Maybe the disease was a part of Sean that couldn't be removed.

Or why else would he be able to sit here so calmly while next to him an innocent girl was dying?

He hadn't wanted to come.

All he had wanted was to curl up at home by the old-fashioned fireplace in the library where he had spent hours and hours with Viggo when they had both still been boys, listening to Sean's father read to them from history books. To feel as lonely and miserable as he was.

Viggo had asked him to come over to Mortensen Manor. To share Christmas with him and Orlando.

It had been a temptation too great to resist. He had not expected a repeat of the special gift of warmth he had received on that magical night of first spring. He had known that it would hurt to see Viggo and his slave share the love and closeness he so longed for himself. Still he had already decided to go when the letter from his sister had arrived.

It had been simple and to the point. 'She' would be at the castle for Christmas. And ‘she’ would certainly use every opportunity she could to harm his reputation further. Harm him in any way she possibly could.

And his sister had expressly told him to stay away. That she would handle 'the bitch'.

Of course, Sean's pride had forced him to come. He had thought he would look 'her' in the eye and smile. Show her that she had not managed to break him. And he had. What he had not expected was the pain that threatened to tear him apart. His own and the one he now sensed around him.

"Well, dear, you really don't look like you are in the properly festive mood." A warm voice said behind him with a mixture of reproach and pity.

Sean turned his head slowly to look up at the strikingly beautiful woman who had come up to him unnoticed. Her long, flowing robes were so laden with golden embroidery and tiny pearls she looked like she was carrying half of the kingdom's treasury with her. Her long black hair was artfully piled on top of her head, interwoven with pearls as well. Her lush lips were curled into a sardonic smile but her eyes shone with a warmth she held only for her younger brother.

The queen of the realm truly looked her part.

Sean tried to force a mirroring smile to his lips but he failed miserably and it would never have reached his eyes anyway. So, in the end he just shrugged apologetically. After all, he didn't want to ruin the party for her as well.

In contrast to him, she actually enjoyed such occasions. Not for the cruelty and torture inflicted on the 'entertainment' but for the cruelty she could inflict unhindered on the other nobles present. A sharp word here, a well placed insult there, a carefully woven intrigue to top things off.

She had not forgotten how she had been welcomed when she ascended to the throne. For the king to marry a mere baroness had caused an uproar among the high nobility. An uproar that had rather quickly been silenced by the executioner’s heavy axe as the king was not exactly known for taking criticism to his actions well.

Still there had been a lot of backstabbing as the question was asked again and again why the king would marry a 'simple girl like her'. That she was a girl by no means simple she had proven by now, but her lust for revenge was not yet quenched.

What she found in the king, Sean had no idea. He had been as surprised as everybody else by the announcement of them marrying. And it was still unclear to him what exactly made their marriage a success, as they constantly seemed to be at each other's throats. At least in public when everybody would have expected them to 'behave'.

But they were married for nearly eight years now, with a healthy four year old son who was a uncontested claimant to the throne and a baby girl who would doubtlessly grow in a woman as stunningly beautiful as her mother.

Angelina truly was a success in every aspect of her life.

Not like her miserable little brother.

"I'm sorry, sis," he said with a small sigh, "you were right, I should have stayed at home."

"Of course I was right." she replied, still as warmly, and drew a chair over to sit down close by her brother. Gently she brushed a strand of hair from his eyes in a gesture so sweet and motherly it did manage to bring a smile to Sean's face.

"You shouldn't be sitting here with your dour brother, sis, you should be enjoying your party." He said. "Maybe poison somebody. I'm sure there are more than enough people here who deserve it."

Angelina cast her gaze over the assembled partying nobles and nodded. "But what kind of a host would I be if I didn't take care of the one guest who does not seem to enjoy himself?" she asked sweetly.

Sean took another sip of his wine. Of course, she would not let him be, even though she knew perfectly well that he couldn't really be cheered up.

"What is 'she' doing?" he asked softly.

A dark cloud of barely suppressed anger settled on his sister’s brow. "Making new friends." She answered with the velvet softness of cloth, wrapped around a poisoned dagger protectively so the poison wouldn't lose its potency.

Sean nodded. That was what he had expected.

"All the friends in the world won't do her any good when I'm through with her." Angelina continued, clear steel now shining through in her voice. 'She' had hurt one of the very few people dear to the queen and that would never be forgotten.

But the look she cast at her brother was warm, gentle and worried. "I'm sorry she harmed you, brother. I am so sorry. I should have been able to prevent it."

Sean shook his head with a small, pained smile. "But you warned me, sis. You warned me plenty. It was me who wouldn't listen and who had to tuck that snake into his bed. If you sleep with a beast, prepared to be bitten."

Gently he took her hand and kissed the palm, some small part of his mind noticing that even she smelled and tasted of blood.

"Why don't you just go to bed, Sean?" his sister asked, that mothering tone back to her voice. "It's not like you enjoy being here, do you?"

Sean sighed deeply and nodded. "Probably you're right. It's not like it's doing any good, sitting here and feeling miserable."

"Tomorrow I am taking a selected party out for a hunt in the king's wood. Why don't you come too?" Angelina asked, offering a perfect opportunity to show who he was in favor with and why nobody should try messing with him.

Again, Sean nodded gratefully. Hunting was something he enjoyed. Maybe it would take his mind off everything else. "Gladly." He accepted her invitation.

"Then I will be seeing you in the morning." Angelina said and leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly. "Sleep well, brother."

Then she got up and glided away in all her regal arrogance.

Sean watched her go, wondering how he could be the brother to a creature as beautiful and aloof as her.

Shaking his head at this new gloomy thought he drained the last wine from his mug and got up.

The noble couple next to him had finished with the slave girl while he had been talking to his sister. They had left the girl lying on the table like a discarded toy, moving off to find more entertainment elsewhere. With a shudder Sean realized that the poor thing's bloodied breasts where still rising and falling unsteadily, forcing breath into a body that would have been better off dead.

For a moment, the urge to turn away was overwhelming but in his mind a pair of warm, brown eyes looked at him reproachfully.

Steeling himself, Sean drew the dagger he was wearing on his belt. Her eyes were wide open, staring at him filled with pain and fear. Not comprehending at all how she had come to be here, how this had come to be her life. So much alike to what Sean felt.

Gently Sean laid his hand against her cheek and leaned over her till he could whisper in her ear. "I'm sorry." He said softly, unable to express all that made his heart hurt. Then he quickly cut her throat, ending her suffering.

He held her while the blood gushed from her wound, while a last shudder ran through her tortured body. Then she was still, her eyes now sightless and empty, her soul hopefully heading for a better place.

Covered in her blood, the smell all over him, Sean realized that this felt right. Now he was as soiled outside as he felt inside. Putting his dagger away he made his way out of the hall, vowing silently, that next Christmas he would spend at Viggo's place. And that he would make very sure to bring some gift for Orlando that would express how very grateful he was to the boy who had offered him sanctuary from the pain and still continued to change him for the better.

-

The morning of Christmas was perfect. Fresh snow had fallen over night and now covered the world in thick, fluffy white. The sky had cleared and now the morning sun lending a sparkle to every single snow covered roof and tree, making the ice on the frozen fountain in the central court of the castle glitter like countless diamonds.

The court itself had been cleared of snow, but outside it lay over the world like a blanket of purity.

Leaning on the horn of his saddle, Sean wondered why it didn't look fake to him. Why he was still quite capable of admiring the beauty in this pristine display when he had just killed yesterday, when he knew perfectly well, that this was not a good world.

The nobles who had been invited to this hunting trip, were all on time, no matter how hard they had partied the previous night, none of them would have dared to let the queen wait. Angelina herself of course was fashionably late.

With slight amusement, Sean watched as the other nobles repeatedly checked their mounts, their saddles, their hunting bows and their outfits to pass the time.

None of them looked to be in the proper spirit for a merry hunt but Sean was sure that this would change as soon as his sister entered the court. Every noble was a skilled liar, after all. It was part of surviving.

Sean drew his thick, fur-lined cloak tighter around himself. The court was filled with the idle noises of nobles waiting, but Sean could feel the silence from outside the castle intrude. The air was crystal clear and seemed to carry the silence as it would normally have carried sound. No wind moved.

It would have been a glorious morning indeed, had it not been marred by the presence of human life.

Then a hush fell over the courtyard, when the portal to the royal wing of the castle opened and the queen stepped out into the crisp morning.

She looked spectacular. She was wearing a riding dress of white velvet, sparkling with tiny diamonds sewn into the bodice and sleeves. A flowing cape of soft white furs warmed her. Her luscious hair was piled on top of her head again, not as artfully as the previous evening pulled back tightly, giving her a severe look.

Immediately the nobles gathered around her, all talking at once, fighting over the position closest to her like a flock of hungry chicken would fight over the wench bringing them their feed.

Which maybe wasn't the worst of comparisons.

Sean stayed on his horse, patting its neck affectionately. Of all nobles present, he was the only one who did not feel compelled to win the queen's attention. He knew that he held something much more valuable - her affection.

It took Angelina a while to hear every exuberant compliment the courtiers were making up to flatter her. Finally, she managed to shoo the nobles back to their mounts

A servant helped her mount her own snow white horse.

"Gentlemen!" she then addressed the assembled nobles, immediately gaining their attention. "We hope you all have slept well for today's prey may prove quite cunning and you will need your wits and perception to bring it down for your queen."

While the nobles murmured their promises to the queen and Angelina gestured over to a guard captain, Sean realized with a deep sigh, that he should have known, it wouldn't be deer or boars that would be hunted on Christmas morning. It would take a less ordinary prey to excite the bored nobles.

Then the guards dragged a human figure out into the courtyard. The simple slave's tunic the young captive was wearing revealed a body trim with lean muscles and tinged slightly blue already with the biting cold. Grime and dried blood clung to him and his shock of black hair was a tousled mess. He was fighting against the grip of the guards, but Sean could see clearly, that it was more instinct than an actual struggle to free himself.

"This, you see," the queen continued her little speech, "is a special specimen, brought in from the lands conquered only this autumn by our beloved king. We hear he is not a meek toy but a prisoner of war."

She turned to the guards. "Let him run now. We want to see if he will truly be a challenge to our dear friends." She commanded.

Immediately the guards let go of the slave and stepped back to open the way for him. For brief moment, the young man seemed confused, his gaze wildly sweeping the courtyard, making Sean wonder if he had even understood what his sister had said. That he was to be amusement and prey to the mounted nobles.

Then the slave's gaze settled on the open gate and he ran.

The assembled nobles cheered as they all could clearly see, that their prey was quite fit and even Sean could not suppress the stirring of his blood. He loved the hunt.

But before any of the nobles could spur their horses on to open the hunt, Angelina raised her hand. "Hold, my friends. We wish to make this interesting so we shall give the boy a head start."

Like a pack of hungry hunting dogs, the nobles restlessly moved on their horses.

Sean saw the smile on his sister's face grow malicious.

"But we do want all of our favorites to have a trail to follow." She added and took up the crossbow a servant handed up to her.

Her brow knitted in concentration as she took careful aim at the dark figure, rapidly moving away over the snowy fields outside of the castle. Then she let the bolt fly and all nobles gasped in impressed wonder, as the running figure stumbled in mid-stride, hit by the bolt in the right shoulder, but then ran on, obviously not mortally wounded.

"Just to make sure he doesn't get away, hmm?" Angelina said sweetly and handed the crossbow back to the servant.

Everybody hurried to compliment her on her skill with the crossbow but Sean also saw them again and again glance towards the shape of the slave, getting smaller with distance as he ran for the woods across from the open fields. It was like they had smelled blood and now could hardly keep themselves in check.

Sean felt bile rise in his throat, as he realized his own eyes were fixed on their prey as well. He was one of them.

Only when the fleeing slave had reached the line of trees did Angelina speak again.

"Make us proud, gentleman, the hunt is opened!" she proclaimed.

And like a pack of dogs let off the leash, they all spurred their horses forward, going from barely contained energy to a wild hunt across the open field in only moments.

The world became a snow white blur to Sean as his horse raced with the other. He felt the strong body move beneath his, felt every muscle in his own body tense and roll with the movement of his mount. Every thought forgotten only the experience of speed existed. That in the feel of the hunt.

He ducked under low branches when his horse reached the tree line and slowed. He could hear the other nobles' shouts, as he scanned the ground for any trail of the prey. They fanned out among the trees, moving forward slowly now but with just as much purpose.

A call to his right drew Sean's attention. Following the sound, he nearly collided with another noble spurring his horse on to follow the trail of footprints and drops of blood in the snow. Together they followed the trail, quietly now, not to draw any other hunter's attention.

Even though they were mounted, they weren't moving much faster than their prey, as they had to move carefully not to lose the trail.

But it was only a matter of time till the cold and the wound would slow down the prey.

Patiently Sean and the other noble followed the trail, ears wide open to the muffled silence of the snow-covered forest. 

Slowly the initial excitement of the hunt wore off and just as slowly the realization of what exactly he was doing wormed into Sean's conscience. 

He had taken part in hunts like this before. Had brought down the human prey more than once. Never had he spent even a fleeting thought on the defenseless slave who ran through the woods for his life.

But now sad brown eyes looked at him in his mind, asking silent questions and Sean couldn't help but feel guilty at the rush these hunts had given him in the past. And about the mindless abandon he now followed the bloody trail with.

This was a human being, cold, in pain, probably out of his mind with fear. And he took part in inflicting all this.

Had he not only the previous night thought that he might one day be a better man?

Obviously, he had been mistaken and cruelty and brutality truly were a part of him, no matter how much he wished to deny it.

Then there was a sound before them that had no place in the wintry forest. The crack of a branch, followed by a muffled yelp of pain.

Like one man, Sean and the other noble, spurred on their horses to break into a small clearing together.

Their prey lay huddled below a large tree on the other side of the clearing, clutching the broken off bolt still piercing his shoulder. A broken off branch was lying next to him. Obviously, he had tried to climb a tree to hide from the hunters but had failed with his wounded shoulder. He managed to regain his feet, whirling to face the nobles, his chest heaving as he seemed completely out of breath, his eyes wide with fear under the dark hair.

Without a conscious thought, Sean held his hunting bow in his hands and before the other noble had even moved, he let an arrow fly.

It neatly hit the slave in the thigh and with a pained scream their prey crumbled to the ground.

A shudder ran through Sean as he realized what he had done. The bow nearly dropped from his fingers, suddenly gone cold despite the warm gloves.

He felt movement around him as other nobles came into the clearing, drawn by the scream. But everything felt strangely muffled and far away to him. The only thing that seemed real was the slave lying on the ground, staining the snow red with his blood. He was still alive but he wasn't fighting anymore. His whole body was wracked by violent shudders - pain and cold and lack of breath.

"Well, it seems my brother's aim is still true." The queen's clear voice cut through the choking haze that held Sean immobile.

Like drawn by a string he turned and smiled at his sister like he was expected to.

There was an odd expression in her eyes as she noticed the cracks in his facade. She knew that something was not right, but she kept up her own mask.

"The prey is yours, brother." She proclaimed and the assembled nobles grumbled their grudging compliments.

And Sean did as he was expected. He quickly got off his horse and walked over to the slave.

Another misery to end, he tried to tell himself. 

But it didn't ring true. It was a lousy excuse for what he knew was plain cruelty on his part. He felt like he was tumbling down a dark well and once he hit ground he would never get out again. Viggo and his boy were far away in a reality of their own and he wouldn't feel welcome there anymore. He was one of 'them'. He would never be like Viggo.

He crouched next to the prey and drew his dagger. The dagger that had just tasted innocent blood the night before. With slight annoyance, he noticed that he had not cleaned it. Dried blood clung to the blade.

He grabbed the slave by the hair, turning him on his back and then exposing his throat.

Their eyes met and Sean didn't feel anything. The slave's eyes were nearly black and so wide with fear and pain they seemed to swallow Sean's complete field of vision. There was so much in them, like Sean was allowed a glimpse inside the man's soul in his moment of death. A soul that had tried to withdraw from all the horror inflicted on it but that was now laid bare for Sean to see.

The dagger descended to the defenseless throat all by itself like drawn by a hunger for blood all of its own.

But still Sean was held captive by these eyes. Eyes that were faced with a monster too terrible to comprehend.

And something gave way inside of Sean. Like a boulder blocking the only exit from a dank cave, something moved in his heart.

Like woken from a bad dream, Sean sheathed his dagger and turned to his sister, with a malicious smile.

"I think I would rather enjoy this hide warm and trashing tonight then have it cured for a pair of boots." He said.

The nobles cheered at this announcement and his sister smiled, reassured that her brother was all right.

They did not see Sean's face, when he turned to look down at his prize again. They did not see the pain when he saw that the last expression in those beautiful eyes was despair at not being allowed the mercy of death, before unconsciousness claimed the slave. And they did not hear the soundless promise that he would make amends. That he would treasure and protect this life he now owned. That he would love without any hope of ever being graced with that love returned.

Better to love in vain than to never love at all.


End file.
